


Letting Go

by Khylara



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Heartbreak, M/M, Mania
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 19:03:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17249681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khylara/pseuds/Khylara
Summary: Sequel (of sorts) to MistletoeWhile on the Japan leg of the Mania Tour, Pete is going to have to do the hardest thing he's ever had to do - let Patrick go.





	Letting Go

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note: I got a lovely comment after posting Mistletoe from Marcela asking for a sequel – here you go. I usually can’t think of them that quickly! And another from Laudanum Café mentioning the nastiness of Pete & Patrick cheating on their respective partners – this is a direct result of that comment. Thank you so much for the Peterick-shaped plot bunny! 
> 
> I was going to wait to see if we got a Valentine’s Day Peterick challenge before posting this, but I decided to close out 2018 a little better than how I rung it in. Thank you all for being such a warm, welcoming fandom.
> 
> Set during the Japan leg of the Mania tour.

“We can’t keep doing this.”

They were lying in each other’s arms under a tangle of crumpled sheets and a garishly patterned comforter, their clothes scattered haphazardly all over the hotel room floor. The flickering light from the muted TV cast eerie shadows over the suitcases standing sentinel over the abandoned room service cart and the rising moon lent a ghostly glow to Patrick’s fingers as he brushed them through Pete’s long hair. “I know we can’t,” he murmured even as he leaned down enough to kiss the bassist’s forehead.

“Sneaking around…hiding things from the guys and Meghan and Elisa…it’s getting to be too much.” Pete drew away enough to look at him. “Someone is bound to find out about us somehow someway.”

“We’ve both been pretty careful,” Patrick pointed out softly. “Nothing inappropriate in public…limiting things to hotel rooms on tour…things have been okay.” He ran a finger along Pete’s stubbled cheek. “Are you saying you want to stop?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. If it was just us I wouldn’t give a fuck who knew. I’d shout it off the roof this this hotel.” There was a pause. “But it’s not just us.”

“No, I know,” Patrick said, thinking about the wife and two children on his side, the longtime girlfriend and two sons on Pete’s, with Meghan pregnant besides. “When is she due again?”

“End of May, beginning of June. Somewhere around then.” Pete let out a heavy sigh as he snuggled against Patrick’s bare shoulder. “At least we’ll be home by then.”

“I know. I love Japan but I’m ready to sleep in my own bed again.” Patrick’s hand drifted down to Pete’s bare shoulder. “I don’t want this to end, though.”

“Fuck, Trick…I don’t either! You know damn well I don’t.” Pete sat up. “But what are we going to do? Sneak around behind their backs? Pretend we’re having writing sessions when we’re really at cheap hotels fucking each other senseless? How long do you think that’ll last before we get a tabloid’s camera flashed in our face?” Getting out of bed, he turned on the bedside light and began looking for his clothes.

Patrick sat up as well. “Where are you going?”

“Back to my room. Where I probably should have gone before but I was too busy thinking with my dick instead of my head.” Pete pulled on his underwear before reaching for his battered jeans. “It’s a miracle no one’s found out about us before this.”

“Joe knows.”

That stopped Pete in his tracks. He looked up, his t-shirt dangling in his grasp and his dark eyes wide. “What?”

“Joe knows,” Patrick repeated as he wrapped his arms around his folded-up knees. “He asked me about it yesterday.”

Pete’s heart lurched hard in his chest. “And when were you planning on telling me?” he asked, his tone bordering on hysterical. 

Patrick shrugged as he reached for his glasses and put them on. “It’s Joe. He didn’t think it was that big a deal.” There was a pause. “I’m not sure why you do.”

“You’re not…” Pete was just about to start yelling when he froze and took a deep breath. “I thought we were trying to keep this just between us,” he finally said. “You know? The two of us?”

“We did,” Patrick agreed. “But it’s Joe. He’s not going to say anything. Andy won’t, either.”

There was another pause. “Did you say something to Andy, too?”

“No, but Joe probably did. And even if he didn’t, why does it matter so much?” Patrick’s hazel eyes narrowed just a touch. “You never cared about anyone knowing things before.”

“Before I didn’t have two kids and one on the way,” Pete shot back, his anger rising. "And you didn’t either. Jesus, Patrick,” He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “How can you be okay with this?”

“I’m not! The last thing I am is okay with any of this!” Patrick shouted. A moment later he stopped and took a deep breath of his own. “Just…please come back to bed. We can talk more about this in the morning.”

“We won’t,” Pete intoned darkly as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. “We’ll be so busy with press and sound checks and getting ready for the show tomorrow night that we won’t have a chance to talk. And tomorrow night we’ll be doing this all the fuck over again.”’

“What do you want me to say?” Patrick asked as he watched Pete continue to get dressed, not sure about what else to do. “Do you want me to be as angry and as pissed off about all this as you are? Would that change anything?”

Pete glared at him. “No, but then I’d know you actually gave a fuck.”

Patrick stared at him, feeling his own blood boil. “I don’t know what you want me to do here!” he finally shouted. “I love you. You know I love you. But I love her, too. When you weren’t there for me, she was.”

“So you’re throwing that in my face now?" Pete picked up one of his sneakers, resisting the urge to throw it at Patrick’s head. “The fact that I had to take three years to get my head back on straight after everything?”

“Jesus Christ, Pete, of course not!” Patrick yelled back. Before he said something he knew he’d regret however, he clamped his mouth shut. When he spoke again, he was calmer. “That’s not what I meant.”

Pete took another deep breath. “What did you mean, then?”

Patrick let out a long, heavy sigh. “I mean. I love you both, just as much. Just as equally.” At the bassist’s doubtful look Patrick went on. “You…I have a history with you. A long, sordid, complicated history that I wouldn’t change for anything.” He paused again, trying to put what he was feeling into words. “But Elisa…she’s the mother of my children. I can’t give that up.”

“And I’m not asking you to,” Pete said, his own voice softening. “Especially since I feel the same way about Meghan.”

There was another long pause. “Then why are we fighting?” Patrick asked, his hazel eyes wide behind his glasses.

Pete stopped in the middle of putting on his socks and looked up. “I don’t know.”

Patrick held out his hand. “Come back to bed. Please?” He wiggled his fingers in invitation. “Let’s just get through the next few shows and then we’ll talk about everything. Okay?”

“Promise?”

Patrick nodded and offered what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “Promise. The minute the last show is over.” He wiggled his fingers again, his tone turning coaxing as he beckoned.  “Come on, Pete. Come back to bed so we can get some sleep at least. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

 _I shouldn’t_ , Pete thought as he stood at the edge of the bed, an uncertain look on his face as he considered things. _I should just go find my room down the hall and sleep by myself for fucking once Maybe then he’ll realize I’m serious._ This wasn’t their first fight since making love under the mistletoe late one night while recording “Mania” and deep down Pete knew it wasn’t going to be their last. Not as long as they kept sneaking around and falling into bed with one another instead of actually talking.

Finally, Pete sighed and started undressing. _Tomorrow_ , he thought as he piled his clothes onto a nearby chair and climbed back into bed, turning off the lights on the way as the redhead took off his glasses and put them aside. _I’ll get him to talk about all this tomorrow_. He settled back into Patrick’s arms after the briefest brush of a kiss against his lips and closed his eyes.

But sleep didn’t come. Pete spent the rest of the night listening to the steady thump of his lover’s heartbeat, trying not to let guilt and shame overwhelm him like it had done too many nights before.

                                                                                ********

“You okay down there?”

Pete started awake, blinking as Joe leaned over him. “Fine,” he said as he smothered a yawn with the back of his hand. “I’m fine. Why?”

“No reason. I’m just not used to seeing you dozing off on the floor next to one of the stage amps,” Joe sat down on the floor next to him. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Not a hell of a lot, no,” Pete grumbled, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “Any more dumb ass questions you want to ask me?”

“Just one,” Joe turned to look at him. “How long are you planning on keeping this bullshit up?"

Pete met him glare for glare. “And by that you mean?”

“You know damn well what I mean,” Joe returned. “You and Patrick and whatever the hell it is you’re doing together.”

Pete looked away, his cheeks burning. “And just how is that any of your fucking business?”

“It’s not,” Joe answered, unruffled by Pete’s tone. “At least it isn’t now. But it will be once this all blows up in both of your faces and every tabloid goon decides to ask us about it and it starts affecting the band. Like it did before when you’d do something stupid.” When Pete remained silent, Joe shook his head and sighed. “Seriously, man…what in the hell were you thinking?”

“I love how you assume that it’s all my doing,” Pete retorted, his anger returning. “Patrick has just as much to do with this as I do. Or did he leave that part out of things when he told you?”

“He said that the two of you were together, but that was it,” Joe answered. There was a pause. “Should I ask how long?”

Pete was silent for a long moment. “A couple months,” he finally said. “Right when we were finishing up “Mania”. That’s when it all started.” He paused. “The night of the mistletoe.”

‘"Jesus, Pete,” Joe breathed, running a hand over his face. He remembered that night all too well. “I’ll ask you again…what in the fucking hell were you thinking?”

Pete shook his head. “I wasn’t,” he finally confessed. “Neither one of us were.”

“Well, that’s for damn sure,” Joe leaned back against the amp. “I’m just saying…he’s married with kids. You might just as well be with the same. And with one on the way.”

“I know.” Pete closed his eyes. “Everything about this has got disaster written all over it in great big neon letters. And all I can say in my defense is that it all just kinda…happened. Neither one of us planned for it.” He let out a heavy sigh. “The only good thing about this whole fiasco is that we’ve both been careful. Meghan and Elisa still haven’t found out.”

“I wouldn’t count on that lasting all that much longer if I were you,” Joe warned. “Patrick’s getting careless.”

“No, I know that, too.” Pete wrapped his arms across his chest. “We should have stopped long ago. Hell, we probably should have never even started fucking around.” He sighed again. “But that’s just it. It’s not just fucking around. I love him and I know he loves me. What we have together…” He looked up at Joe. “Do you know how long I’ve dreamed about that?”

“Just a guess? Probably for as long as you’ve known him.” Joe’s voice was quiet. “I get that, man. I really do. “He paused. “But it’s not just you two anymore. There’s a lot bigger picture.”

Pete sighed again. “I know. I told him the same thing just last night. I don’t think he was hearing me all that well, though.” He rested his head on his drawn-up knees. “I just wish I knew what to do.”

“You know what you have to do,” Joe said as he put a hand on Pete’s denimed shoulder. “Don’t you?”

Silence. Finally, Pete nodded. “Yeah. I guess I do. And I guess the sooner I do it, the less of a chance that choice is taken away from me and everything goes straight to hell." He turned to look at the guitarist. “Right?”

“Got it in one, man.” Joe patted him on his shoulder before getting to his feet. “One other thing? Sometimes loving someone means letting them go.” With that, he walked away.

Pete continued to sit by the amp staring up at the lighting rig by the ceiling before he reached into his pocket of his jacket and pulled out his phone. Clicking it on, he smiled as he ran his thumb over the three faces smiling back at him from his screensaver. “God, I love you guys,” he murmured as he thought of exuberant hugs, tender kisses and everything in between. Everything that meant home to him. A sudden, swift ache filled his heart and after quickly checking what time it would be in LA, he hit the speed dial. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, his smile growing when he heard Meghan’s voice on the other end of the line. “No…everything’s okay. We just got done sound check. I just wanted to see how you and the boys were doing with everything.” He listened for a moment. “Yeah…I miss you, too.”

                                                                                                *****

“God, that was an incredible show,” Patrick said as they walked off the stage hours later, giving the fans one last wave before vanishing behind the curtain. He handed his guitar off to one of the stage hands before continuing. “Everything just came together tonight. You know?”

“Yeah,” Pete said as he handed off his bass, forcing a smile. No wrong notes, no missed lyrics, and no technical problems – it had been a perfect show from beginning to end. Perfect except for the flashes of smiles Patrick kept sending his way whenever he came near, the touches the singer gave him in front of thousands of fans, the fact that he wasn’t trying to hide anything he was doing. Everything was out in the open, ripe to be misconstrued, without even a pretense of trying to hide things between them.

“You okay?” Patrick asked as they walked back toward the dressing room area to grab their bags. “You seem down tonight for some reason." He put a hand on Pete’s arm. “You didn’t get bad news from home, did you?”

“What? No. I talked to Meghan right after sound check. She’s fine. The boys are good. Nothing’s wrong.” He paused, moving forward enough to dislodge Patrick’s hand. “I can’t wait for this part of the tour to be over. It’s just too far away right now.”

Patrick didn’t say anything as he went to the mini fridge in the corner and pulled out a bottle of water. “It’s a month between this leg of the tour and the Reading and Leeds festival,” he commented as he drank. “What are we going to do about it?”

Grabbing his backpack, Pete rummaged around in it for a hair tie. “What do you mean?”

Stepping closer, Patrick put a hand on Pete’s denim-jacketed shoulder. “You know what I mean. I want to see you in between then and now at least once. Maybe more.” His voice softened. “Don’t you?”

Glancing at the still open door, Pete quickly stepped away. “Not here,” he said, turning to glare at Patrick. “Someone could come in at any moment and see you. See us.” His eyes narrowed. “Do you want people to find out about us and tell your wife?”

“Who is going to come in besides Andy and Joe?” Patrick countered as he finished his water and threw the bottle away. “They already know. And they’re not going to tell anyone.”

“There’s press and bloggers all over the place,” Pete countered as he tied his long hair back into a short ponytail. “I had two of them shove cameras in my face right before we went on. I’m not taking any chances.”

“Something like what we have can always be explained away,” Patrick said as he watched Pete close up his backpack. “What’s wrong with you tonight? All of a sudden you want to hide us away.”

“It’s not all of a sudden.” Pete snapped as he turned to glare at the singer. “And what the hell is wrong with you tonight? All of a sudden you want the whole world to know about us.”

Patrick met him glare for glare. “Maybe I’m tired of hiding how I feel about you.” He reached out, about to pull the bassist into a hug when he stepped back. “Jesus, Pete…no one is going to find out!”

“You sure?” Pete yelled back, his dark eyes blazing. How could Patrick be so reckless, so thoughtless? “Are you willing to risk your family on that? Or are you okay with just risking mine?”

“Um…guys?” They both looked around to see Andy and Joe standing in the doorway looking very uncomfortable. “If you’re gonna have a lover’s quarrel here, you might want to keep it down a little,” Joe said as he stepped in to grab his own bag. “We could hear you half-way down the hall.”

Andy nodded as he picked up his “Game of Thrones” t-shirt off the couch and pulled it over his head. “There’s nobody out there now,” he said as he grabbed a bottle of water and took a long sip. “But the press people around here are a sneaky bunch. They might have been out there before we showed up.”

Pete and Patrick stared at each other. “We’ll finish this back at the hotel,” Pete said, his voice quiet but firm.

“As far as I’m concerned it’s already done.” Grabbing his backpack off the couch, Patrick slung it over one arm and pushed past Joe, heading for their waiting limo.

Pete watched him go, his heart hammering hard in his chest. Too close. It had been far too close and things were becoming far too dangerous. He looked at both Andy and Joe, who were both glaring at him. “I’ll fix this,” he promised.

“I sure as hell hope so,” Andy said as he grabbed his own bag. “Because I would really like any headlines about this tour to read “Fall Out Boy tour a Phenomenal success” rather than “Band mates illicit love affair exposed”.” He followed Patrick out to the car.

Joe and Pete traded looks. “So what are you going to do?” Joe finally asked as he grabbed his jacket and bag.

“I don’t know,” Pete finally said as he followed Joe out to the waiting car. “I’ll think of something.”

                                                                                                *****

Both men were silent during the short car ride back to their hotel and in the elevator on the way up to their floor. Pete followed Patrick to his room before waving his hand further down the hall. “I’m just going to…”

Patrick shot him a look as he keyed open his door. “If you want to talk, get the hell in here,” he said, practically growling the words.” And shut up about it.”

Pete clamped his mouth shut and did as he was told, waiting until the door was closed behind him before turning his attention back to Patrick. Before he could say anything, however, he was pushed up against the doorframe while the breath was kissed out of him. He hesitated for only a split second before opening his mouth under Patrick’s and returning the kiss with everything he had.

Just as suddenly Patrick jerked away, leaving Pete with a split lip. “Take off your fucking clothes and get into bed,” he snarled, stepping away.

Pete didn’t move; Patrick had never talked or acted like this before. “Patrick…”

“Did I ask you to say anything?” The singer’s hat landed on the TV stand in front of the bed as he began unbuttoning his sweater. “Either get undressed and get into bed with your legs spread or get the fuck out. But if you do leave, don’t bother coming back.” Jerking off his cardigan, he tossed it onto a nearby chair.

“Patrick…please…can’t we talk first?” Pete asked as he watched from his place by the door.

Taking off his glasses, Patrick put them on the nightstand. “No. Not before I fuck you into the mattress.” Kicking off his sneakers, he went over to the bed and jerked back the covers to expose crisp white sheets underneath. “Now, for the last time, get undressed. Before I tear your clothes off and you’re forced to walk back to your room buck ass naked when I’m done with you.”

 _He’s serious_ , Pete thought as he watched, for the first time in his life afraid of the man standing in front of him. Just as Patrick took a step toward him, Pete quickly kicked off his own shoes and took off his jacket. “No need to start tearing off things. I’ve got it,” he said as he put his jacket and shirt on another chair. He swiped his thumb against the cut on his lip, tasting blood. “What’s gotten into you?”

Pulling off his t-shirt, Patrick threw it aside. “Nothing. It’s what’s going to be getting into you in a minute.” Grabbing Pete’s arm, he pulled him close. “Now shut up.” He forced Pete into another kiss.

Pete’s heart began pounding hard in his chest as Patrick’s hands tightened around his arms. _Bruises. He’s going to leave bruises,_ he thought as he tried to pull away. Patrick responded with a growl as he squeezed even tighter. “Patrick…baby…” Pete gasped, jerking his head away.

“Not your baby,” the redhead said as he reached down to rub his hand over Pete’s crotch, licking his lips when he felt Pete’s cock respond to his touch. “Yeah, you want this.” He undid Pete’s zipper and reached inside.

“Never said I didn’t,” Pete managed to get out before guitar-callused fingers found his erection and gave it a rough pull. His eyes closed as he let out a low, throaty groan. “Fuck…Patrick…”

Just as suddenly Patrick took his hand away and pushed him down onto the bed. “Get naked,” he said as he undid his belt buckle, letting his pants fall to around his ankles. His erection tented his underwear for the briefest of seconds before he kicked them off with his socks. “I’m not going to tell you again.”

Scrambling up against the pillows, Pete got rid of the rest of his clothes and watched as Patrick dug into the nightstand drawer for the bottle of lube. He swallowed hard as the singer liberally coated his cock with gel. “Condom?” he asked, wanting Patrick to slow down, to stop for a moment, to breathe for just a second or two before going on.

It didn’t work. “We haven’t used one once since our first night together and now you want one?” Patrick asked as he climbed onto the bed and put a hand on one of Patrick’s knees. “Spread your legs.”

Pete tried again. “Patrick…”

“Spread. Your. Fucking. Legs.”

Pete tried again by putting his hand over Patrick’s. “Trick…sweetheart…you’re scaring me a little here,” he said, forcing a smile.

“Payback for all the times you used to scare me way back when.” He pushed Pete’s legs apart and settled in between them. Coating his fingers liberally with gel, he slid his hand under Pete’s ass, looking for his hole. “Relax.” He worked a finger in, wiggling it before adding another. “That’s it.”

Pete gasped, his hips thrusting upward to meet Patrick’s questing fingers. “Oh, God…Patrick…please.” He closed his eyes, biting his lip as they brushed against his prostate. “Yes…there. Right fucking there.”

“Now you want it, don’t you?” Patrick asked. “It’s yes instead of no, isn’t it? Isn’t it?” Drawing his fingers out, he lifted both of Pete’s legs up until they were over his shoulders, nearly bending the other man in half. "Gonna fuck you so hard people in the parking lot hear you. Then no one will question who you belong to.” Before Pete could say anything about that, Patrick gave him another rough kiss before entering him in one thrust.

Pete’s eyes went wide and a moan escaped him as both pleasure and pain spiked through him. He grasped Patrick’s upper arms, holding on for dear life as the singer began to thrust. “Fuck, Patrick…please…slow down a little. Please?” His fingernails dug into his lover’s pale skin. “Please…a little?”

“No fucking way,” Patrick growled, red hair falling into his eyes as he moved even faster. “Mine. You’re mine. No one else’s.” He dug one hand into Pete’s hip, holding him steady as he reached up to grasp the headboard. “You’re fucking mine.”

 _Not yours_ , Pete thought even as he felt his orgasm began to build and spiral out of his control. _Not yours. Not now. Not anymore._   “Patrick!” he cried out, holding onto that one thought as his head falling back against the pillows as he came all over his belly. He was still shaking when Patrick managed one last thrust of his own before coming deep inside him.

His legs falling off of Patrick’s shoulders, Pete laid underneath Patrick’s heaving frame as he closed his eyes to keep tears at bay. _Over_ , he thought as he tried to catch his breath, the one word sending an ache through his heart. _It’s over_. A tear slowly slid down his stubbled cheek _. I didn’t want things to end like this…_

And yet, he mused as Patrick brushed his lips against the side of his neck, he knew deep down that it couldn’t have ended any other way.

The moment he felt Patrick slip out of him and roll off him, he sat up and moved toward the edge of the bed. He ran a hand through his long hair, biting his lips to stifle the sob that threatened to come out. _You’re okay,_ he told himself over and over. _You’re okay. He didn’t hurt you. A little rough maybe but that’s nothing. You’re okay._

He was just about to try standing when a hand on his arm stopped him. “Pete? You okay?” Patrick asked, sitting up as well. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

Pete shook his head. “No, you weren’t. Everything’s fine,” he said, surprised to find his voice calm and steady. “I’m going to get cleaned up a little.”

“Oh, okay. So long as you’re okay.” The hand on his arm fell away. “Don’t be too long. We’ve got another long day tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sure.” Getting to his feet, Pete staggered to the bathroom and paused at the door to look at Patrick. The singer was sitting up against the pillows, his glasses on and his phone in his hand. Sighing, Pete ducked in and quietly closed the door behind him.

Sitting on the edge of the tub, Pete turned on the water as hot as it would go before liberally soaping up a washcloth. He really wanted a shower, but he wasn’t going to take one here and now. _Back in my room_ , he thought as he swiped the washcloth over his belly and between his legs. He wasn’t surprised to see a trace of blood staining the white terrycloth; Patrick had been a lot rougher than normal. _Back in my room behind two locked doors…then I can fall apart._ Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he let the water run cold enough to splash away sweat and tear tracks. _But not here. Not now._

When he was done he came out of the bath and without looking at Patrick began putting on his clothes. “Where are you going?” he heard the singer ask, the tone of his voice more than a little annoyed.

Pete looked up. Patrick had put his t-shirt back on and was looking at him over the edge of his glasses, his phone still in his hands and a frown on his face. “Back to my room,” he said as he pulled his own t-shirt over his head. Sitting down in the nearby chair, he began putting on his socks. “Like you said, we’ve got an early day tomorrow. I need to get some sleep.”

“So why go back to your room? Sleep here.” When Pete didn’t say anything right away, the singer huffed a sigh and put his phone down. “Pete…it’s too fucking late to be dealing with this.”

Pausing in the middle of tying one of his sneakers, the bassist looked up and their eyes met. “Yeah, it is too late,” he said before going back to his shoes.

Patrick watched for a long moment before the meaning of what Pete was doing actually sank in. “So we’re doing this now?” he asked as Pete stood up and put his jacket on. “What happened to waiting until after this leg of the tour was over so we could talk?”

“Tonight showed me that I couldn’t chance waiting any longer.” Pete thrust his hands into his jacket pockets, making sure he had his keycard and his phone. Once he left he didn’t want to come back for any reason. “Tonight you were more than ready to sabotage everything and tell the world about us. Maybe tell everyone that it was all my doing instead of yours?” When Patrick didn’t answer Pete felt his anger once again rise hard in his gut. “No. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you play martyr at the cost of your marriage and mine. No fucking way, Patrick.”

“We could tell them!” Patrick shot back. “We could sit them both down when we get back and tell them everything. They might be okay with it!”

“Is that what you’re counting on? Our wives turning a blind eye to the two of us fucking each other behind their backs?” Pete didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “Meghan, maybe. Before we became serious I told her everything about everyone I had been with. Jeanae and Ashlee. Mikey and Brendan. Even how I felt about you. Everything.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Did you ever tell Elisa?” The moment Patrick turned his head away, Pete had his answer. “No.”

“Pete…”

"No, Patrick.” Pete’s voice was firm. “I’m not going to be your dirty little secret. I’m not going to be one thing in public and another thing in faraway hotel rooms. And I’m not going to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder waiting for a paparazzi’s camera flash to go off in my face. This ends here and now while we’re both still lucky enough to get away with it.” He swallowed hard before going on. “We’ve both got too much to lose.”

After a moment, Patrick let out a deep, shuddering sigh of his own. “So this is it, then?”

“It has to be.” Going over to Patrick’s side of the bed, he sat down. “Joe said something this afternoon while we were talking. He said that sometimes loving someone means letting them go.” Reaching out, he took one of Patrick’s hands in his. “I love you. You will always be my Pattycakes. But you’re not just mine anymore.” He brushed his thumb against the singer’s wedding ring. “And I’m not just yours anymore, either.”

Patrick twined their fingers together. “You were for a little while.”

“Only for a little while,” Pete agreed, managing a smile. He brushed his free hand over Patrick’s cheek. “You’re my best friend and my brother in all but blood. I will always be there for you if you need me, just as I know you’ll always be there for me. But we’ve got other people depending on us. So this ends now. Okay?” He waited for Patrick to nod before cupping the singer’s face in his hands.

 _It’s better this way_ , he thought as their lips met and he tasted salt and heartache all at once. _Friends...bandmates...but nothing else._ Pushing that thought aside, he drew away and brushed another kiss against Patrick’s forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, away?”

“Yeah, okay,” Patrick said as he swiped at his eyes. He managed a smile of his own as Pete got to his feet. “You know, I never thought you’d end up being the sensible one out of the two of us.”

Pete smiled as well. “Surprises the fuck out of me, too.” He leaned in for one last kiss, brushing his fingers through Patrick’s red hair. “Get some sleep, okay?”

“You, too.” Patrick watched as Pete opened the door enough to peek out. “Coast clear?”

“Yeah.” Pete looked over his shoulder. “See you at breakfast.”

“Okay. Pete?” He gave the bassist one last wavering smile. “I love you.”

Pete managed one in return. “I love you, too.” Stepping out into the hallway, he closed the door behind him.

 _He’ll thank me later_ , Pete thought as he made his way down the hall, tears silently streaming down his cheeks. _One night when he's holding Elisa in his arms or he’s watching Declan sleep, he’ll think about how close we came to disaster and he’ll be okay with it._ Fumbling with his key card, he opened the door to his hotel room and went in. _And so will I._


End file.
